


Love

by ashes0909, FestiveFerret



Series: Held [29]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Dom/sub, Feelings, M/M, Stand Alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-20 20:19:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11342520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashes0909/pseuds/ashes0909, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/pseuds/FestiveFerret
Summary: Tony could pin Steve anywhere. Two fingers affixed him to the kitchen counter. A palm on his head glued him to the floor. When Tony straddled him and pinned his arms above his head, Steve felt truly, gloriously, trapped. This time was different.





	1. Pinned

_Bucky…_ The feeling that name brought was… indescribable. _“We have Bucky Barnes.”_ Tingling, joyful relief, twisted with gut-wrenching, nauseous horror. _“We_ **_have_ ** _Bucky Barnes.”_ Bucky was alive. And SHIELD **_had_** him.

Steve wanted him back.

He flattened his palm against the conference table and tried to breathe steadily, stay calm, be a voice of logic and strength and reason. If they could trust him, they might let him take Bucky. But his mouth was dry and his stomach felt like lead and all he wanted to do was scream and fly across the table and shake Fury until the key to his best friend fell out of his pocket.

“He should be with us - with me.” He met Fury’s cool, expressionless face. His heart pounded in his chest, anger and betrayal heating his blood. “You can’t expect him to wake up alone. I remember when I - what I wouldn't have given to see one familiar face.”

Fury held up a placating hand. “I’ll admit we made mistakes with you, Captain. But this is different. Barnes has been brainwashed, his mind was filleted over and over. We have no way of knowing what state he’ll be in, or if he’ll even remember you at all.” Steve’s gut twisted. “And besides all of that, he’s still unconscious. It’s not safe for anyone, Barnes included, for him to be moved right now.”

“Safe? So it’ll be safe for his ‘filleted mind’ for him to wake up alone in whatever lie you’ve concocted for him, this time. What are you planning? Convince him it’s 1936 again and none of it ever happened? Let him think he’s still a prisoner, a tool? You probably have him caged now, like an animal, like they did.”

Steve remembered staggering into that room and finding Bucky strapped down on that table, restrained, panicked, trapped against his will, like he’d be now if he let SHIELD keep him. Why would they even want him at SHIELD? _He belonged with Steve._ “You - you probably don’t even want Bucky back, you want the Winter Soldier for your own use. You’re no better than Hydra!”  
  
The one comfort of losing Bucky on the train was that Steve knew he wouldn’t have to go through any more shit. He could imagine him at peace. And now he was alive again and broken and he needed Steve and they locked him in a cage and tied him down and -

Steve didn’t even realize he was shouting again until a single finger touched the side of his hip, cutting him off sharply. Tony pressed firmly against his jutting hip bone. Steve sucked in a rattling breath then let it out. Tony wasn’t looking at him - he was glaring across the table at Fury - but Steve could feel the full force of his commanding presence crackling from his fingertip through Steve’s skin and to his core.

It wasn’t sexual - his roiling anger removed any chance of that - but it was profoundly settling. Something churning and acidic inside him calmed and stilled. Steve took a moment to breathe and focus, letting Natasha and Bruce take over the questioning for a moment. Tony still made no movement towards Steve, shot no looks his way, but the single finger remained glued to his hip.

Tony could pin Steve anywhere. Two fingers affixed him to the kitchen counter. A palm on his head glued him to the floor. When Tony straddled him and pinned his arms above his head, Steve felt truly, gloriously, trapped. This time was different.

Tony was offering him a ground, in case he needed it. A tether to cling to, to keep him from flying away. It was gentle and unassuming, Steve knew he could brush it off and Tony would let him go. But that’s what Tony was now - his tether.

Tony surely had every reason not to want Bucky in his tower. He was a dangerous Hydra asset, brainwashed, and - on a more selfish note - likely to be a massive timesink for Steve as he recovered. But Tony hadn’t hesitated, hadn’t shot Steve any concerned looks. The second Fury said, “We have him, and we’re keeping him,” Tony had his metaphorical fists up, in his boxing stance. He was fighting for Bucky, for Steve. So, Steve trusted him to fight, let him take the lead, even though it was one of the scariest things he’d ever done, putting that in Tony’s hands. Because this was too important to be ruined by Steve’s temper, by his fear.

When Steve was locked in the safe space the collar provided, floating, soft, yielding, when Tony was wrapped around his body, cradling his mind with confident hands and a silky-strong voice, it was easy to love Tony then.

Steve was open and free in that space and none of the things that were trying or overwhelming or frustrating about a relationship could reach him there. So, of course, he loved Tony in those moments.

And sometimes it was hard. Arguing on the battlefield. Needing to haul Tony up out of his workshop after a three-day engineering binge and pour him into bed. The drinking, the loud music, the cocky smirk when Steve got angry. That a compromise was inevitably Tony getting everything he wanted, and Steve getting a distracting blowjob. Tony was wasteful, forgetful, and thought money could solve everything. And Steve loved all of that too.

It was easy to love Tony when he was bringing Steve back down from outer space, slipping the collar off, petting and soothing abused skin and sore muscles. It was somehow easy to love Tony when he was forgetting about a date with Steve, yet again.

But looking at him now, mumbling half-formed insults and shooting death glares across the room, guns blazing, one hand bringing Steve down and the other up in Fury’s face, Steve realized it was easiest to love him _right now_.

He thought about all the times before that he’d felt this love and not said anything, not told Tony what he’d given Steve, how he’d changed him, how much Tony meant to him. He’d never put it into words before, because he didn’t know he had words for it at all.

It was _always_ easy to love Tony, even when it was really, really hard.

Especially when it was really, really scary.

And he needed him to know.


	2. Offered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He came back to the penthouse to wait, but more than that, he had a mission. One Tony knew nothing about... yet

The living room carpet rubbed against his bare knees. Steve wanted this to be perfect, and as he twisted his collar between his hands, he knew that this was the best he could do, this was everything he had to offer.

With a deep breath, he forced everything else to fade away: Bucky, Fury, their conversation from earlier. There was nothing he could do about it now. Fury had assured them he'd notify Steve the moment Bucky woke up. Tony had demanded Stark medical would take over from there, and Fury had miraculously agreed, due in part to the menacing glances he'd received from multiple Avengers. Now, well, there wasn’t much more he could do about the situation.  

His fingers clenched around the collar in his lap, and he thought of Tony. Steve was already halfway to floating, all because after the meeting Tony had told him to return to the penthouse and wait. He’d obeyed, because he needed to calm down, and he knew Tony understood. Tony had wanted to give him time to process as much as he could, under the circumstances. 

So he came back to the penthouse to wait, but more than that, he had a mission. One Tony knew nothing about... yet.

There was a pair of shorts he owned, ones Tony had bought him, gold and skintight. They barely covered his upper thigh, especially when he was kneeling, and Tony loved him in them. They were all that he was wearing. 

He had bathed, lathered himself in a lotion that never failed to draw Tony’s mouth to his skin. He’d taken a straight razor and shaved his jaw and neck, trimmed around his cock. It was around that time that his body had taken notice of his plan, and he’d been half hard ever since. 

Next to him, laid like an offering on the coffee table was every sex toy Tony had ever gifted him. They were lined up in a row of Iron Man red and gold, and every way they’d ever tortured him replayed in his mind whenever he looked at one too long. So he kept averting his eyes back to his hardly covered thighs. But no matter what, he always inevitably looked back at the coffee table. His cheeks flushed every time.

The handcuffs were there, draped over the suitcase that had started everything. Next to it were the red and gold, metal balls Tony had made him grip throughout the night, months ago. The cuffs were there, and even the switch. His nipples tingled at the sight of it, remembering the marks it had left.

He looked back down at his collar. He wanted this to be special, to give Tony anything and everything he could want. So Steve had been grateful when they were forced to go their own ways after Fury’s meeting. He had needed time to prepare.

On the coffee table next to the toys were Broadway tickets Pepper had given him over a cup of coffee an hour ago. Next to those tickets were Stark courtside seats he’d traveled all the way to Rhodey’s to get.

Once Steve had it all laid out, he stood in front of the table, with his hands on his hips, imagining Tony seeing it all. Something was missing. 

He didn’t have long, he knew Tony would return to the Tower within a few hours but it was enough time. Steve brought a sketchpad to his lap and drew the thing he sketched the most, the thing he was acutely familiar with, the thing he knew Tony would love: the sharp lines and smooth edges of Iron Man. 

He left the helmet off, pencil curling around Tony’s wide smile and bright eyes instead. He drew himself in Tony’s arms, the sun setting behind them. He managed to add a returning smile to his own face, without running out of time. 

When he finished, he added the drawing to his coffee table grand gesture.

He loved Tony. He wanted to give him everything and anything. He wished he had more to give, something that Tony would consider 'epic' or 'out of this world'. But what more could he offer? The only thing Tony had ever asked for was Steve, that was all he ever wanted. And this was all that Steve could give. So after he finished the drawing he knelt on the rug, hands on the collar resting in his lap, and he waited.

Time passed.

The elevator chimed, and Steve sucked in a breath. He had glued his eyes to the rug submissively, but... he wasn’t strong enough, he wanted too badly to see what Tony looked like when he saw Steve waiting. 

Tony was barely two steps into the penthouse when his jaw fell open and he pulled the sunglasses from his face, obviously confused. “Oh hell, JARVIS, what did I forget?”

Steve couldn’t stop his smile, and it was like the tension was cut from the moment. This would be easy, he just had to say the words. “You give me everything, Tony, and I wanted to give you the same because, well--”

Tony stepped away from the elevator, cutting him off. “It’s not your birthday that’s next week. Is it my birthday? When's my birthday? JARVI- oh no... could it be our--” he snapped his fingers then pointed at Steve. “Is it our anniversary? Do we have one of those?”

“Tony.” Steve took another breath, keeping his eyes locked on the man because that effectively stopped his rambling. Tony’s jaw slammed shut when he reached the edge of the rug, and Steve could tell he had noticed the table by the way his gaze turned from panicked to curious.

“What is all this?” Tony asked, voice barely a whisper as he broke their gaze, walking over to, of all things, the drawing first. 

“You give me everything,” Steve began again and this time when Tony looked over his shoulder  to interrupt, Steve held up a hand. “Let me. I... I wanted to give you everything too, because… I love you, and I wanted you to know and--” his eyes dropped to the coffee table, watching as Tony gripped one of the metal balls in his palm and Steve felt his pulse hitch in response. “--I wanted this to be special in whatever way you chose. We can stay in, we can go out...”

Tony grabbed the other ball, rolling them between his fingers and palm as he turned back to face Steve. He looked beautiful, still in his suit from the meeting, even with confusion still written across his face. “Yes, I love you too, Steve. But, what's the special occasion?”

“That.” Steve raised his eyebrow when the confused expression remained. “That’s the special occasion. I love you and I wanted to give you a token of that love. But what do you get the richest and smartest man on the planet? You can buy anything you want Tony, and when you can’t you make it.” He took another deep breath because the look on Tony’s face showed that he still didn’t understand. “I know we could use any of the toys on this table on any regular day, I know that you can have me on my knees with a word. So I gathered it all together and drew you a little sketch because, well, I love you. So much.”

“Oh.” Tony’s face cleared with relief. “Great! Is that all?”

“Is that all?” Now Steve was the one whose jaw dropped. “I’m pouring my heart out and you’re-- you-- I-- what?”

“Pouring your heart out? I love you too, we’ve loved each other for ages. I’m  _ more  _ than happy to use this table of goodies. And the art. I can’t keep my eyes off it, I get it keep it right?”

“Of course, Tony.”

“You look delicious, and you smell divine, come closer.” Steve rolled his eyes at the order but still knee-walked closer to Tony. When he was within arm's reach Tony reached out and ran a hand through his hair, massaging into Steve’s temple. “You’re so gorgeous waiting for me on your knees in my favorite pair of shorts. How could I not think it was a special occasion?”

“Tony,” he began, leaning his cheek into Tony’s palm. “You do realize we’ve never actually said we love each other before. Right?”

The hand stuttered to a stop. “What?”

“We’ve never said we love each other.”

“That’s preposterous. I love you. How could I not love you? Look at you you're incredible. You're so good for me, always so good, no matter what. You try so hard, even when I ask you for nearly-impossible things. You save the world, and you leave your sketching pencils all over the damn place and bizarrely you know who Madonna is but you still can't seem to get the DVR to work, and you thank JARVIS every damn time he helps you out. And when you surrender for me, it's so beautiful. You're so open and easy and damn, Steve. Of course I love you. You're everything to me. I’ve loved you for years.”

Steve dropped back onto his heels, face flushing darker every time he looked towards Tony. The words kept playing in Steve's head and they made sense, they fit, even if they took his breath away and warmed him from the inside out. He wanted to laugh, or maybe that was a sob building in his chest because he loved Tony, and Tony loved him, had for-- Wait a second. “Tony, we haven’t been together for years.”

“Well it certainly feels like it!”

And the pressure that had been building in his chest finally broke into a laugh, and Steve didn’t try to hold it back, just let it go into the space between Tony’s legs. Tony rubbed his hair, petting and laughing too, even if it was still tinted with confusion. “Are we really arguing over loving each other?” Steve asked into Tony’s thighs.

“Seems like it.”

Steve pulled back from his legs just far enough to ask through lowered lashes, “Would you like to go look at the coffee table and put something to good use instead?” 

Tony’s hand in his hair gripped tight, pulling his head back so he could lean down and bite a kiss into his bottom lip. “You always did know how to ask nicely for what you want.”


End file.
